


One Step Closer

by Charlie_Grace



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2012-11-13
Packaged: 2017-11-18 15:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/562384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_Grace/pseuds/Charlie_Grace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki has been having visions for centuries, and the time has come to pursue the subject of those visions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preface

They always came quickly and fled his mind in the same manner. Regardless of his proficiency in the magic arts, he could never grasp them any longer than they wished to be viewed. He was completely at their whim.

At this point in his early adulthood he had hundreds of these visions to draw from and notes and research on many. Who, when, where. When he was young, he had dismissed the first several visions but finally one came that had elicited this... _feeling_...of strength. He was not unaccustomed to feeling powerful, of course, but this was such a pure strength he could not ignore the sensation. He had become intrigued; at his most obsessive he had actually almost dared to hope for something more from his princely - heh - from his mischievous, bitter life.

Almost.

Now and again they would come over his consciousness: a joyful smile, musical laughter; a face. A presence eliciting a feeling of strength, of security, of acceptance. Unwavering resolve in a pair of eyes that were not Asgardian. It was always the simplest, but most seemingly random series of triggers that brought these visions. He experienced them as if they were memories long forgotten, but he knew instinctively that they were not to pass for many years.

But now, that time was approaching. As much as he detested the idea of spending time in Midgard - again - and seeking out a lowly human, he was resolute. He  _would_  find her.


	2. Searching

When he arrived in Midgard he focused on a city in North America called "Minneapolis." He had seen flashes of himself with her, driving, looking out at a city, images of signs and maps burnt into his brain that all pointed here. He had a general idea as to where he could find her, if she indeed existed - and he was certain his research pointed to this timeframe in Midgard's life judging by its current state and events. He had been driving himself slightly mad the last several years, keeping abreast of the monotonous, so very  _human_  happenings on that planet, knowing at some point he may be able to tie them in to his visions to create a cross-reference point. Several natural disasters and two visions of printed headlines later and he was certain he was close.  _She_  was close. He felt such a mix of self-disgust, apprehension and hope when he thought of pursuing her. Did she exist? Did he even  _want_  her to exist? If the feelings in his visions were accurate it would mean a shift of himself. It would mean acknowledging more than darkness in the pit of his gut. Accepting someone who was strong enough to endure  _him_  for who he was behind his many facades. Presumably, it would mean he  _cared_  about someone. Even in those fleeting moments he  _felt_  that. Someone who would give him something his own family had failed to do. She would look at him with a love that his father never quite matched.

Yes, he had surrounded himself in darkness, bitterness; enjoyed watching others suffer as he had. But in the moments he did not lie to himself he was still merely Loki, seeking something all living beings craved. He harbored a deep sensitivity in general (especially to rejection) and it was his "family's" ignoring that that had made him what he was.

With ease, the god teleported himself to the small, Midwestern city and materialized on a street corner where the foul odor of exhaust from a large vehicle immediately molested his sensitive sense of smell. The moment he'd arrived on Midgard he had begun expecting a vision as if these sights, smells, sounds would surely trigger something in his "memory." Nothing so far and he found himself disappointed. Each subsequent sensory experience brought nothing but further ire, burning in his chest. He purposely wandered on foot with the intent of forcing a vision. He had never been able to do so before but he needed one now. He needed to know he wasn't on a mad chase, that he hadn't finally gone insane. Evil mischief-makers were, of course, constantly on the brink of madness but he was not the same. Oh, no. Not Prince Loki.

This particular city was somewhat dissimilar to Loki's previous experiences with Midgard. Visually, of course, it was close enough to a tiny New York City, stark buildings and boring architecture for the most part, reaching into the sky, just waiting for someone to come along and topple them. He sneered slightly at the thought.  _This could be a fun location to wreak havoc,_  he thought,  _if my visions are nothing more than a mad man's imaginings._ But as his lips turned up, the humans he passed on the street did something he'd never experienced before - they  _smiled_  at him. Yes, a few people had slowed past him with obvious stares, but he'd just been smiled at for no reason. No one who looked particularly predisposed to behaving obnoxiously...yet seemed to be genuinely...what? Happy? No more so than anywhere else, he figured. Strange. Not entirely annoying, but strange.

He knew if he was to be successful in this endeavor, he would need to attempt to behave (for now) as if his "soul" as the humans would have called it - still existed. He was a god, however, and when – no, IF - he found  _her_  he would not hide that fact from her, though he felt inclined to at least try to be discrete among the others. Humans seemed to come laughably easily to alarm and he was keenly aware of how that could drive this woman from his grasp if he approached her without consideration of her human tendencies. He was no fool.

Absently, he walked through the door of a small shop called "I Like You" at which he inwardly chuckled. There was something about this city indeed. He saw a woman behind the counter who beamed at him as she heard the door's bell ring.

It felt strange to do so, but he purposely allowed the corners of his mouth to lift in response as he nodded his head in her general direction. It wasn't that he was unaccustomed to smiling; it was more the fact that he had never felt compelled to smile  _at_  someone for no good reason (or no malicious reason for that matter). He quickly diverted his attention to the eclectic offerings in the shop though he did not plan to purchase any. There was the strangest collection of items in this place.

The woman's voice cut through his thoughts. It surprised him that he had not been paying any attention what-so-ever to what she was doing - or thinking. "All of these items are handmade by local crafters and artists," she said, as if reading his mind. "Is there anything I can help you find?"

Loki again allowed the corners of his mouth to lift in a slight smile. It wasn't any easier than the first time he'd done it. "No, thank you. I am simply...browsing." His voice may have sounded a bit strained with the effort of friendliness but at least he had tried. The woman nodded and went back to her work. Shopkeepers were typically friendly, he recognized, but this one was...warm. So had the humans on the street been.

Upon exiting the shop, he stood for a moment in between two buildings as he decided to end his aimless wandering about. The frustration at a lack of visions still bubbled in his belly but he did not bother to regard it further.

He had seen a specific view of the city in a vision, standing next to her on a balcony, their conversation muffled but their connection unmistakable. He ported to the roof of the building and studied the layout. No, not this angle...

It took three attempts before he was satisfied with the exact spread of the city before him, and then it was a small matter of distance and exact building. The one he had seen in so many of the visions was a deep red on weathered stone. By the time he had pinpointed one that gave him a view comparable to his recollection, he was standing on a balcony feeling somewhat at a loss. He couldn't be sure he was on the *right* balcony, but it was close. Perhaps he'd see her. He listened intently, focusing on the indoor portion of the home and heard no activity. Slightly weary from his reconnaissance, he sat down on one of the several wooden chairs near him, and waited.


	3. Misery Loves Inner Conflict

This apartment, and both its neighbors for that matter, had been empty for several hours.

This was quite enough time for Loki to do nothing but think, which gave him plenty of time to feel like a naive child for following this desire. Enough time to feel ashamed that he had dared to hope. He had managed for so long in this state of bitterness, scheming as self-defense, lust for power as a fill to the void, but for an unknown reason he could not simply will away the desire to see these visions to fruition. The part of him that wanted to justify his actions with emotions was firmly shut out by his mind for want of strength, but not before being unwillingly heard.

Lesser beings had emotions. He was beyond them. Yet here he was, chasing fleeting visions like a young fool. He sighed.

Despite having been lulled into a semi-complacent state by the withstanding silence in addition to his own thoughts, Loki heard the sounds of life in the neighboring apartment long before a human would have. His heckles raised slightly but his face remained passive, trying with some success not to  _feel_  anything.

He heard a feminine sigh, a few thuds. Of all the information and memory he had, there was little along the lines of a clear voice. The tiny poetic still alive in him imagined he might simply know her voice when he heard it, but the other 99% of his being laughed bitterly at this thought. In his long life he had few friends, none who remained as such for long. The thought that the stars would cross tonight in his favor was almost humorous.

Footsteps. The door to the balcony next to his began to slide open. Reacting, Loki shifted into something a little less conspicuous. He was not yet ready to face reality, should she stare him in the face - or anyone else, should they panic at the intruder on the balcony next to them. He was equipped to handle a situation, but could not be bothered to create trouble just yet.

In his new feline form, he curled up on the chair and watched intently. The woman's form appeared across from him, somewhat hidden by the rails of both balconies. The obscured view was so very frustrating he had to fight the temptation to leap across just to get a better look. As she leaned against the rails, still oblivious to his existence, he could finally see this human's face. The darkness in his soul lifted for a brief, unpermitted moment and his heart swelled.  _It was her!_  He quickly gained control of his emotions but found his current form "purring" fiercely despite all efforts to curb this vibration. He was not of much familiarity with cats, however, he had spent enough time on Midgard to be aware of this basic expression of contentedness.

Efforts to control these somewhat disturbing emotions forgone, his large, green eyes studied her. She was so like he'd always known: her frame was slight, if tall for a Midgardian female. Practically glowing skin nearly as pale as his peeked out through her clothing and a long, graceful neck gave way to the face he felt so familiar with. Her dark eyes framed with thick black lashes captivated him now as they always had in his visions, even when she was not turned toward him. Rich, earth-colored hair was arranged into a single braid which fell over her left shoulder, several stray locks framing a contemplative face. He could see the curve of her chest rising and falling peacefully as she looked out at the city before her.

Emboldened, knowing she had not noticed him and had not looked in his general direction he took the opportunity to shift back into his Asgardian form – in favor of a Midgardian suit instead of his usual armor - and sat quietly in the same chair, looking out at the city as  _she_  was. He could see her out of the corner of his eye and noticed she had been very, very still. He would have given anything to hear hear thoughts in those silent moments. After several minutes he heard her sigh and shift her position into a chair not too dissimilar from his.

He took this moment to face her, shuffling a bit, hoping the movement would catch her attention. He assembled his features to appear as approachable as possible: his round eyes as warm as he could muster, lips half-turned up in a curious expression. He was reminded yet again how out-of-practice he was in behaving genuinely.

The movement did indeed catch her attention and she nearly jumped out of her skin. "Oh!"

He had alarmed her. His heart fell.  _"This is not likely to be the last time I frighten her,"_  he thought with guilt, loathing. Part of him wanted to tuck tail and retreat immediately, but his pride would not allow him.

He could hear her heart thumping in her chest, her breath slightly shaky as she regarded him both with intensity and...apology? "I'm so sorry; I didn't see you there. I didn't mean to jump," she said softly. Loki's heart beamed again at this first clear sound of her voice. She gazed at him with intrigue and did not continue or introduce herself as he had expected her to do.

These last couple of hours here had done well to remind him why he did not bother with emotion. So little control. He grimaced inwardly but had the sense to reply cooly, as he was so practiced in doing, "No,  _I_ am sorry; it was not my intention to startle you." He lowered his head slightly so he was looking at her through his thick black lashes as he widened his eyes just so. "Please forgive me."

Her gaze met his and she smiled ever so slightly. He felt as if he could start purring as his cat form had.

"Are you house sitting for Tom and Alice?" She asked as she strode across her balcony closer to him. "I'm Grace, by the way." She was, he knew, curious as to who he was and why he was there which her countenance and words expressed, but he saw a deeper intrigue in her eyes which she hid well - but not completely. She extended a hand and he rose from the chair to meet her, clasping her hand in his for a brief moment. He had seen humans do this in greeting and he was surprisingly pleased just to feel her warm skin on his.

"Grace. Fitting," he said, more to himself than anything else. Her eyes glinted with a slight confusion. "I'm Loki." He smiled.

Her hand suddenly left his, as per customary hand-shake length, leaving him feeling empty; a complete overreaction, he observed, but empty nonetheless. He knew that given who - what - he was, befriending this woman was likely going to be one of the bigger challenges of his life, but departing from her completely now would prove to be even more difficult. He decided that this was a pursuit he would see through, if for nothing else but pure game.

But he blinked as he noticed she was still looking at him, waiting for him to say something. Without skipping a beat, he recalled what it was and responded. "Yes..." he smiled stiffly. "Yes, I'm house-sitting for Tom...and Alice."

That was not likely to be the last time he lied to her, either.


	4. Awkward Loves Intrigue

"When do they come back again? Saturday?"

Loki nodded, smiling stiffly. Grace could see he was on edge for some reason. A breeze rustled the plants on her balcony and she wrapped her arms around her belly, looking over at Loki. He did not seem affected but then, he  _was_  wearing a suit.

"So do you work around here?" She was awful,  _awful_  at small talk but felt obliged to have some sort of conversation with this man. Silence at that point wouldn't exactly feel companionable. Actually, it probably would have felt more awkward than her "we just met" conversational skills.

"Something like that," he said smoothly. "I'm doing a bit of research in the area. Tom and Alice needed someone to look after their home, and here I am." He smiled to himself as he shrugged lightly, a sort of self-satisfied "I-love-it-when-a-plan-comes-together" kind of smile. Grace was inclined to grin at him, amused.

"I'm glad that worked out for you," she smiled.

That weird silence fell as he caught her eye, turned his lips up and then immediately dropped her gaze. She was somewhat skilled at catching male attention but had a tendency to not know when to shut up, even when her attempts at conversation to fill awkward voids were failing epically. And Loki was definitely an attractive - actually, more like  _beautiful_  - male and his eyes were 100% intriguing. Even if they were looking at the balcony floor beneath him.

"And you, Grace? What is your profession?" He asked, eyes boring into hers once more.

"I'm a doula - a - a sort of birth worker..." Guys in general tended to struggle with this answer and typically dropped the topic quickly, but Loki did not scrunch his nose or release her gaze.

"Is that so?" He actually had the decency to look intrigued. "And what's your role in...birth?"

"Well, a doula is a birth attendant, really." He continued to watch her, not stopping her. She was happy to continue. "My job is to provide the mother with information before and during labor, support her through labor and birth, advocate for her, support her emotionally and help those around her support her as well." She eyed him warily. He still wasn't sneering in disgust, attempting to change the topic or looking uncomfortable in the slightest. Her brow knotted. "Even referencing birth seems to freak a lot of people my age out...do you have kids?"

Loki huffed in response, his gaze fixing on the stars above them as he leaned back. A couple of baffling moments later he spoke again. "Your work...is it rewarding?"

She was very, very aware that he had totally evaded her on that one, but seeing that she was a total stranger, she let it go for the time being. "Yes, it's unbelievable. Of course it's messy, usually grueling and exhausting work but to see  _life_ , to see a woman's transformation to mother, to see the look on her face as she holds her baby for the first time outside her body...there is no drug that could compare."

The silence between them those next few moments was much less awkward. She realized her gaze had also turned toward the night sky, but she was more inclined to view Loki's profile in her peripheral vision. She could see his eyes so clearly even in the night. They seemed to alternate between staring intensely at her, straight through her brain, and then completely avoiding looking at her at all. She couldn't figure out if she was making him feel really uncomfortable or what his deal was.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out suddenly. His face snapped to look at hers, genuinely surprised. "I've been talking your ear off and you probably sat out here to get some peace. I-"

"Please do not apologize, Grace." His surprise had turned into slight confusion. "I have enjoyed our conversation, though brief. But you do look rather tired and I should be getting back as well."

She felt slightly taken aback at his suggestion, as if he was trying to get rid of her - though his earlier words hadn't indicated it. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. "Yes, you're right. I really do need to grab a shower and get some sleep." Brashly, and probably way more dramatically than she intended, she practically jumped out of her chair and stepped toward her sliding door.

"Grace, I very much appreciate your company tonight. Perhaps we'll see each other out here again." This made her stop in her tracks and turn back to him. His voice sounded sincere and he was looking at her again through those gorgeous lashes. She smiled politely, still a little embarrassed. He dipped his chin in a nod at her and though his lips did not shift, the corners of his eyes wrinkled just slightly as he regarded her warmly.

"Yes, I'm sure we will," said Grace, and slipped into her apartment.

* * *

Loki sighed. He had felt too close to his  _feelings_  and felt the need to withdraw. He did attempt to do so gracefully, but he hadn't missed the blush on her pale skin when he'd made the suggestion to her. He knew that speaking to her - as if seeking her out had not done so already - had brought on a battle of his defensive instincts and his inner desires, and it was not a pretty one. And her feelings had already been a casualty of that battle. He exhaled, eyes downcast. Part of him was elated, on a high from interacting with her and studying her while the other part criticized everything he was doing. How far he had fallen, he thought, to have gone from driving an army, orchestrating intricate schemes to vying for the attentions of a mere human woman. He snarled in disgust.

Not a moment later, though, he felt guilty for being so harsh in his thoughts. It was not Grace's fault he felt so conflicted, nor should her name pay the price for his struggles. He sat, milling back and forth between his desires and a familiar steely numbness that didn't seem as comfortable anymore. When her lights were all out, he didn't even think before porting straight into her apartment, his back against that sliding door. He did not intend to appear to the naked eye, however, so he cast an invisibility spell on himself which would allow him to pursue his insatiable curiosity about Grace at his own leisure.

He heard her sigh and a rustling of linens in a room above him, and then her home fell silent. It was very clean, he noted as he slowly walked through the lower level, eyes sliding over every inch of her home, taking in his surroundings. A few books on her table, a satchel slumped in a tall chair in the kitchen, images on her wall near the door - all puzzle pieces that would fit together to illustrate just  _who_  Grace was. Without touching it, he studied that satchel. A simple woven bag which said "Birth Rocks!" He realized it must be something she took to and from her work, and wondered if she had recently come back from attending a woman in birth. He was not of utmost familiarity with human procreation, and hadn't particularly cared before but the light in Grace's eyes told him he may like to ask her sometime...but he would need to do a little research of his own, first.

As he silently strode up her stairs, he could hear her even breathing louder and louder with each step. The first room he entered on this level was not hers, but seemed a mix of a work area and an empty bedroom. The light on the computer softly pulsed and waned, and he resisted the temptation to take a peek - for now. He was somewhat familiar with Midgard's technology, but he was already taking more from her than he'd been given simply by being where he was.

 _Hm_ , he thought. Normally that didn't bother him.

He stalked without a sound into Grace's sleeping chambers - or bed room, as humans called it - and found himself rather intrigued. It was fairly simply decorated, and the majority of the space of an entire wall was filled with shelves of books. He turned first to gaze at Grace's sleeping form. Her body was curled onto one side and her long, deep brown hair was unbraided now and splayed out on her pillow, the excess draping over her shoulder. One naked, athletic leg poked out of her white cover. Yes, for a human, she was rather breathtaking. For more moments than he cared to count, he watched her so carefully that each peaceful breath she took seemed to wash a foreign feeling of peace over him as well.

Unnerved, he forced himself to again turn to her books and began studying the titles, curious as to what literature she kept near to her and whether he would recognize any of it. One particular title caught his eye: From Conception to Birth: A Life Unfolds. He slowly pulled it off of the shelf.

Surely, she wouldn't notice if he borrowed it for a night or two.


	5. Stars

He utilized Tom and Alice's empty apartment for the next couple of days and made a conscious effort to stay out of Grace's sight. He had little that required any depth of focus, but was very aware that behaving in a way which was overbearing to her would present more risks than he was willing to concern himself with. Sometimes he left to walk the city which was surprisingly distracting for him on several occasions. There were many gardens, and the Mississippi River which flowed through the center of the city was a calming place to observe local inhabitants. He did not bother to mask himself when he was out, and only a couple of people had seemed to recognize his face. He was less conspicuous when he wore human attire and his hair was not as long as it had been  _then_. He had been pushing away thoughts and memories of his attempts to subjugate the humans - merely a year ago - as he was not ready to face how Grace would react should they get to the point of discussing such things. She had not seemed to have any recollection of his face, and he was heartened by that. Possibly.

He read the book he had borrowed from Grace's bookshelf in a half-day and felt he understood the basis of the physiological and biological process of human procreation. It was not, in fact, all too different to Asgard's growth and birth process. However, the text in the book lacked Grace's enthusiasm and so he looked forward to hearing her speak of the processes herself.

He did not enter her apartment again due to an unnerving shift of conscience, though he could hear her somewhat clearly through the walls when she was there. Each night, around the same time as the night they first met, he could hear her slide the balcony door open and she would sit out there quietly for ages. It was those moments he sat inside, wanting to speak with her, feeling like a coward for hiding in the shadows.

On the third night, he heard her sliding door once again. He knew he would no longer have use of the apartment after that night and would have to make arrangements for his own. Now that he knew she was here, he knew he had no desire to leave anytime soon. 30 minutes or so after he'd heard her walk out, he also stepped onto "his" balcony and sat down. She did not move, did not appear to have heard him at all. He double-checked himself. No, he was clearly visible. It was then he noticed the black strings leading up from her lap to small buds in her ears. Ah yes, he had seen these before. Headphones. She was listening to something.

He rotated the chair and stared up at the stars, something he typically avoided doing. As a child, he knew that the stars had been created by his adopted uncles, sparks of what was then fire thrown up into the sky not long after the creation of this world. Now, they just reminded him of what was far beyond that cover of sky...of the bitterness he wanted to leave behind, the family who did not love him, the abomination that was his true race. His lip sneered in disgust - at all of this, at himself.

It was then he heard a small voice begin to hum, barely audible. It was a peculiar tune, and Grace's voice was gentle and sweet.

He felt his head practically vibrate before the world around him ceased to exist. He held his breath as images swirled in his mind and he struggled to catch them, to bring him down to his consciousness. Long strands of dark hair brushing his bracers, hands holding tightly to his own, pulled up to his leather-clad chest. A forehead pressed against his own, the sound of himself breathing, of  _her_  breathing in short huffs. She was saying something that he couldn't make out. Something comforting? He didn't even have the control to whisper the "What?" that was on the tip of his tongue. Stark white all around them. Suddenly, the hands left his and he was pulled back unwillingly into the night-covered world. He sat, stunned, his breath caught in his chest as he collected himself and his surroundings again. It was as if he could still hear her muffled voice calling him. He smiled distantly, sadly, and then her voice became far more crisp than it had ever been.

"Loki? Are you okay?"

He shook his head to clear it. He was so used to attempting to hang on to his visions as he always had, hoping that like a dream in the morning they would still linger if he could just stay still enough. But she was  _here_.

He looked at her sheepishly, something he truly felt. "Yes, I'm so sorry. I was centuries away."  
 _Please, don't ask what was on my mind._

"You looked really intensely in thought there, are you sure you're OK?" Naturally, she was observant enough to make this difficult for him.

"Yes," he said, I was just thinking about the stories my parents used to tell me about the stars." That much was true. "I didn't mean to seem rude."

She smiled at him. "Oh, it's OK. Besides, I just realized I had been humming along with my iPod anyway, so I'm sort of relieved you probably weren't paying enough attention to hear me."

He chuckled. "And what was it you were humming?" They were playing a game of evasive eyes. Just when he looked into hers, she would look away, and when she looked into his, his own gaze would fall. It was a strange dance, yet somewhat thrilling.

"Uh..." She huffed, a bit of pink reaching her cheeks. "It's called 'Falling Slowly' from the film Once." Have you heard it?"

"I can't say that I have...I think I am somewhat inclined look it up, though, if you enjoy it so much it makes you spontaneously sing." He said lightly, lips turned up in a warm smile, the first in a long time that was both genuine and painless.

She let out the most beautiful laugh.

* * *

Grace wondered if she should follow that up with a "Hey, let's exchange emails" type conversation. The song would be a perfect excuse. Tomorrow, Tom and Alice would return and her chances of seeing him again would slim greatly. Maybe he didn't care, but she was WAY too intrigued by this guy to just let him go away.  _OK, that sounded sort of stalkery, brain,_  she thought,  _but it's true...ugh. Fine._

"Do you have email? I could always send the link to you," she blurted out. "I mean, if...if you wanted."

He appeared somewhat pensive for such a simple question and finally responded, "I would love that, however, I don't presently have access to e-mail."

"Oh." She said dumbly, mentally slapping herself.

"I'm moving house shortly and planned to set it all up when I get settled in...but perhaps you'd be willing to write your...address..down for me and I can send you one when I have a computer again?"

"Um, sure," she said, wondering if she had a random pen and paper in her pocket. It wouldn't be the strangest thing she'd ever kept on her person. "Hold on one sec, let me grab a post-it." She raced inside and grabbed what she needed, writing as she walked back out. Loki was staring at the stars again. "Here," she whispered as she leaned across the balcony to hand the note to him.

He rose, an intense look in his eyes as he reached out to take the paper from her. His cool fingers brushed hers, and all she wanted to do in that moment was to grab his hand and just hold it.  _Like a total creeper,_  she thought. At least he couldn't hear her thoughts, right?

"Thank you, Grace. I'll look forward to using this in a few days." Damn it, he was looking at her through his lashes again. Her breath caught. Was he doing that on purpose? He sat back down, glancing at the stars before turning to her.

Grace blushed slightly. "Me too," she said honestly. "So...you said you were thinking earlier...about stories your parents used to tell you?"

He stiffened just slightly, and then looked back at the stars before shooting her an enchanting look out of the corner of his eye. "Yes. Are you familiar with Norse history?"

"Mythology? Or history?"

"Both." He quirked his brow at her, seemingly aware that this would throw her.

"Please, do tell."

"Well," he began enthusiastically, clearly in full storytelling mode. "The Norse believe that in the beginning of the world, there was a Giant, a 'Jotun' called Ymir. He was the first of his kind, created into the vast emptiness in between the land of fire - Muspelheim - and the Mist World - Niflheim. Of course, being in between the two, the climate was quite lovely. Ymir was so very, very lazy, and as he slept he created more Jotun. It is said that from his sweat, these first Jotun were born. That always made me giggle as a young boy. To be created from the sweat of such a waste of space. Literally."

Grace chuckled dutifully. In truth she was riveted already, watching him as he looked at the night sky, occasionally glancing at her to see her reactions. She could not peel her eyes away from his face, his own eyes wide as saucers and glinting with something new as he relayed this story to her.

"My grand..." he cleared his throat, thrown off beat for a moment. "The first god, however, was Buri, who grew out of a rock on Niflheim. He had a son called Bor, who was Odin the Allfather's father. Odin and his two brothers, Vili and Ve, realized that Ymir was sleeping SO much, creating creating so many Jotun that their land was quickly becoming too crowded, not to mention the fact that the Jotun outnumbered their own Aesir. They resolved that the only way to stop this was to kill Ymir. The three brothers waited one night until he was asleep which, of course, was not a rare occurrence. It took all their strength to kill Ymir in the battle that ensued, but they did succeed and it is said the blood that flowed from Ymir killed most of the Jotuns.

Back to the point, the stars, correct? When the brothers had completed the task they had set upon themselves, they drug Ymir's body towards the center of that vast emptiness - called Ginnungagap. It was in this great void that they created the world from Ymir's corpse. Pleasant, I know. At least it did not go to waste?" He looked at Grace, amused.

Grace giggled. "I guess. Still sorta morbid."

Loki's otherwise guarded face had lit up in his storytelling, and it warmed her to see that. He continued. "So the brothers turned the blood into the oceans and water; his flesh turned into the land, bones into mountains and teeth into rocks, hair into grass, trees and plants. Ymir's brain was thrown up and turned into the clouds. Then, Ymir's skull became the sky. It was the cover to the world they had created. From the Muspelheim - remember, the Land of Fire - came sparks, so Odin and his brothers caught some of these sparks and threw them up into the sky. The sparks shone brightly at night and thus became the stars. The Aesir lived on another realm, called Asgard. They called this realm Midgard, meaning 'Middle Earth.'"

There were a few moments of pleasant silence between them as Grace processed the story and tried to come up with a way to describe how much she had enjoyed listening to him. She as not the most verbose of creatures and was well aware of this flaw in her wiring. If she couldn't be well-spoken, she could at least be sincere. "Absolutely fascinating!"

His eyes twinkled back at her though his expression was much more serious now. "Thank you for indulging my tale, Grace." He said softly. Suddenly they didn't feel like strangers anymore. She wondered if he would agree.

In a rare moment of compulsion, Grace asked, "Would you like to come over for a coffee or something? I could seriously use a drink, but I'm really enjoying your company."

He appeared very surprised at this and then smiled authentically. "That would be lovely."

"I'll unlock the door. Just come on in."

She began pouring coffee grinds into the coffee maker and heard her door open. "Here, take a seat on one of these stools," she said as she moved her doula bag to the floor next to the breakfast bar. He did as she asked, but not before she realized how tall he was. She was tall, but he had several inches on her. It hadn't seemed as severe - or as attractive - as it had from the other balcony. As the coffeemaker bubbled and steamed, she watched him looking around her living room and kitchen. "So have you and those guys been friends for a while?"

"Who?" He asked, confused.

"Tom and Alice. Sorry."

"Ah! Yes, my apologies. No, we have not known each other for a very long time, but they decided they needed someone last-minute and I happened to be around."

"That would explain why I don't recall seeing you," she thought out loud. "You're moving? Around here somewhere, or far, far away?" She smiled.

Loki returned her grin. "Not far from here, actually."

It was that moment her phone decided to ring. _Shit,_  she thought, _This may be the only time I've ever dreaded a call like this._ "I'm so sorry," she told Loki as she reached for her phone. "I'm kinda on call. I have to take this."

As she hit the "Answer" button she cradled the phone with her shoulder and went about pouring two mugs of coffee. A call from this number didn't necessarily mean "Get here right now!" but it very well might. "Hello?"

"Grace? It's Anna."

"Hey Anna, how you doing?" She could hear the excitement in Anna's voice and knew what was about to happen.

"I'm good...say, I think I'm in active labor right now."

"OH! Awesome! How are you feeling? How are your contractions?" Loki was looking at her curiously, intently.

"They're getting pretty intense and about four minutes apart. We've just got the kids to my mom's and are in the car to head to the birth center. Are you able to come now?"

"Of course, Anna! I'm so ready! I'll hop in the car right away. See you in 15. Call if you need anything before then." Her adrenaline was already pumping, and as per usual she pushed herself into a calm/aware state of being.

"Loki...I've got to be an asshole and leave. I've got a client in labor right now and she's asked me to head over. I'm so sorry to invite you in and then rush out."

"Do not apologize. It's absolutely understandable, Grace." His voice was pure fucking velvet. Somehow she'd lost hold of that fact over those last two minutes. "Perhaps we can have coffee at another time. I do have your e-mail now."

"That's right, you do!"

She considered further, possibly slightly clouded both by the adrenaline and the oh-my-gorgeous look on his face at that moment, "Are you around later tonight? I mean, feel free to knock if you're up. This woman is known for precipitous labors and is already well on her way. I might only be gone a few hours. It's so hard to sleep after a birth." She was reaching, she knew. But not only would she love a rain check on that coffee, she would love company in the aftermath of work. She was always so wired, even if she was exhausted.

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind, but I wouldn't want to wake you."

"Honestly, I'm just saying."

"Then perhaps I'll see you later this evening, if you return." He smiled at her shyly, standing now a mere foot away from her. She grabbed her bag and keys and he followed her through her door. As they faced each other in the hallway before departing, she smiled widely at him. "It was great talking to you tonight."

"Thank you, Grace. The pleasure was mine." He bowed his head slightly with the smallest of grins. "And I shall see you soon."

She smiled as he turned, and then turned herself to race down to her car. That was definitely not how she had expected to spend her evening and frankly, there was very little that could have been done to improve upon the actual evening's events.

She grinned the entire way to the birth center.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am pretty sure I twisted a bit of the mythology here just to make it all jive, but if there are glaring issues please PM me and let me know. I tried to be as accurate as possible for my ignorance level. ;)


	6. Falling Slowly

It was about three days later that she received an e-mail from him.

* * *

 _From: mischief-etc_  
To: gracedamien  
Subject: Loki

_Grace, thank you for providing me with such wonderful company while I looked after Tom and Alice's home. I'm very pleased to have met you. As you can see, I have finally got my e-mail back up and running, and I hope you've still got that song you promised to send. I'd love to hear it._

_I do believe we have an outstanding coffee. Feel free to contact me anytime you'd like a chat, with or without hot beverages._

_Loki_

* * *

She'd been too busy those last few days to really wonder about him, but found herself smiling like an idiot upon receipt of his message. She decided that she would reply after class that evening. Otherwise, there was simply no focusing for her and her parent-to-be participants had been more and more interactive as of late - something she loved, but needed all of her brain for. Why this newcomer was even inciting any amount of thought, she wasn't sure. It had been quite some time since she had bothered to worry about what people thought of her, or considered how she behaved toward them. Loki was making her feel some kind of self-conscious, and it was unnerving.

She didn't do unnerved. She wouldn't.

After a particularly engaging class that evening she went home and flipped open her laptop.

* * *

_To:Mischief-etc  
_ _From:gracedamien  
_ _Subject: Re: Loki_

_Hey there! Glad you finally got everything working. Hope you're settling in to your new place and that it's starting to feel like home._

_It was great meeting you as well! Would love to grab that coffee/chat sometime._   _Do you have any favorite coffeeshops in the area? There are one or two near here I could recommend if you don't have a preference.  
_

_Best,_   
_Grace_

_P.S. I've attached the mp3 of "Falling Slowly." Shh - I didn't just illegally distribute that to you ;)  
_

* * *

He wrote back the next day and suggested meeting at her favorite coffee shop the following evening. As she was currently well in between client due dates, she felt fairly comfortable in the idea that she wouldn't have to ditch him this time. Now the only issue was dressing herself. Never her strong point. For the first time in a while, she hadn't been outside at all that day and wasn't truly sure what the weather beyond her balcony felt like. Playing it a bit safe, she threw on a pair of snug-fitting jeans under a tunic-length, off-white lace top and a cute yellow cropped blazer jacket. Yellow mid-heels (hey, he was tall!) made her feel rather springy and so she was off, walking the three blocks to Janine's Coffee House with a lively step. She wondered if he'd be thoughtful, reserved as he had seemed most of the times she spoke with him or warm and animated as he had been once he'd told her the story about the stars. Either was fine, really, provided he didn't decide he hated her and leave.

She walked into Janine's at precisely 7:00. Naturally, Loki had been early (he just seemed that sort of infuriatingly polished, always-early type). He rose from his seat when she entered and like a true Brit, pulled her in to kiss her cheek in greeting, his hand resting gently at her waist. The proximity made her feel so warm and pleasant. What was it about this guy?

"Grace, you look lovely. It's so good to see you." He smiled at her, his pale eyes dancing.

She returned the grin wholeheartedly. "It's good to see you too, Loki. Have you ordered anything yet?"

"No, I was waiting for you. What would you like?" He motioned toward the counter, looking over the menu as if he might be able to guess before she told him. She almost wondered if she should let him try. She chuckled under her breath, and Loki turned toward her, amused though not 'in' on her internal joke.

"Just..." she giggled. "I'll go with a caramel macchiato, I think."

"Caramel macchiato it is, then." As he ordered (and Grace could see the barista hanging on every beautifully accented word of his), Grace took him in. A suit, as usual, with a beautiful, delicate-looking green scarf draped over the back of his neck. This seemed to be his go-to outfit. Not that she was complaining. He wore it well.

Ugh! Why was she even thinking like this! As if she had the mental capacity to even CONSIDER trying to date, let alone sorta... _hoping_  for it?

Loki was paying and they made their way back to the table he'd chosen (not that there was much choice in it...Janine's was tiny).

"Thank you for sending that song to me, by the way. You were right - it's a pleasant tune. Lovely harmonies."

"Oh, aren't they? I'm so glad you like it. It's one of those that kinda had me hooked from the moment the woman started singing." She smiled.

"I did not ask you over e-mail...how did everything go the other night? The birth you had to run off to?"

"Oh! It was great! I've had this client once before, and this is her third child. She's kind of got a reputation for fast labors, and this one was like a record long one for her. She had been in labor for an hour before she called, and her little girl was born just two and a half hours after I got there. Absolutely gorgeous little baby." She knew she was beaming, and his blue eyes were alight as he regarded her. He was actually listening - not just pretending to for the sake of courtesy, she realized.

"Is it better then, to have it all over with so quickly?" He inquired.

"Well, sometimes. The body still has to do the same amount of work, and if you squeeze the same amount of work into a smaller amount of time, that work becomes extremely intense. It's like instead of slowly inching down a slope, you're tumbling. There aren't as many moments of peace in between contractions. It makes it difficult for the mom to focus, to cope, to feel like she is in control, to feel like she can manage. For me, those are sometimes the most challenging. Less thought, more doing. I feel like long labors allow me to utilize a lot of the methods I have learned, where precipitous labors force me to hone in on which of them specifically will be the most effective in that moment, because those moments are over so quickly. This mom, though, was just amazing. Just truly a birth professional's dream come true and a gorgeous human being all around."

Loki was smiling at her thoughtfully. "And what made you choose this profession, Grace? What fueled this passion? If I may ask, of course."

She hadn't expected him to ask that. For some reason, she just hadn't. She didn't even think he was asking for the reason most people would - 'you don't have any kids, obviously, so how do you know anything, right?'  _Obviously, I don't have kids. Yes, it's very, glaringly, painfully obvious._

"Grace? I'm sorry...have I said something wrong?" His voice was soft, coaxing, his eyes wide, studying her. No, he hadn't meant any harm.

She didn't look at him. "I...I have. Had a child." She fiddled with her fingers as she continued. "I had been with his father for two years when I found I was pregnant. Somewhere in the first six months he realized - or decided - that he didn't want kids. He didn't want to settle down. He left."

She heard Loki's huff.

"I know, right? What kind of asshole leaves a pregnant woman? Well, he did. Just...one day he said he was going on a business trip, packed a bag and never came back. Sent a message saying so and that he wouldn't even be back for what he left behind. Didn't even care what he  _actually_  left behind. I couldn't handle it. It didn't feel right, the idea of me being a single mom, trying to raise this child when I was practically set up for failure. Yes," she held up a hand in defense, "people do it every day, and it's extraordinary and great, but for me it just felt wrong. So I opted for adoption. The adoptive mother was a doula. She offered to be with me the whole time. I had a midwife, too. And I know that I would not have made it through that experience the way I did without their support. Without his new mom's guidance, encouragement, without her wisdom. They were so gentle; they let me take the lead instead of ordering me around citing hospital policy and threatening me with interventions when they felt out of control; they redirected me from fear and pain and made it a peaceful, beautiful experience. I realized that THAT'S what I wanted to do. That everyone should have the option of the type of experience I did."

She paused a moment, feeling the lump in her throat. He hadn't asked for an emo sob story. He'd asked for her inspiration. It just so happened they went hand-in-hand. "They named him Elijah."

"But then, you were alone." His voice was low, somber, somehow understanding. She dared meet his eyes and they bored into hers. It was too intense. She broke his gaze and continued fiddling with her hands.

"Yes. It was a closed adoption. They were kind, they were perfect. But it all happened so fast. He was just...gone."

"Do you not feel that you did the right thing?" Still, that soft voice. It wasn't annoyed, it wasn't attempting to redirect the conversation. She almost wished it was.

"I don't know. I feel I did the good thing for him. I did a wise thing. It just still doesn't feel like the  _right_  thing. For me. Maybe someday it will."

"I hope that it does, Grace."

She pursed her lips and forced herself to look at him. "Thank you." She shook her head and pulled the corners of her mouth up. "I'm sorry. You asked a simple question that I managed to turn it into a sob story."

She tried to subdue the shiver that went up her spine when he gently, reassuringly laid his hand over hers. "Everyone has a story. Everyone has pain. It's all a part of us."

"I don't want to freak you out by getting super serious so quickly." she blurted. She mentally slapped herself. Really? She needed a filter.

"You didn't, and you won't." He looked sincere. He was still gazing at her intently, his hand so, so warm on her skin. It was lovely.

He smiled ruefully. "Besides, my story is more likely to 'freak you out' as you say, than vice versa."

Suddenly, Grace wasn't interested in her own crap. She willingly took his bait. "Hm. What  _is_  your story?"

He breathed a short laugh and looked away from her, his fingers sliding away just slightly, though still touching hers. "I believe I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

Grace laughed. "Yep."

He inhaled, and as he released the breath he suddenly became very serious, his expression dark and difficult to read. "I must warn you there are many chapters to my story which I am not willing to revisit at present. Know that someday, should you ask again, I  _will_  tell you. But there are a great many things that are still too raw, things I have not fully processed yet. I do not wish to diminish your offer of trust in telling me your own story, but I ask you to understand that my life's experiences have not been...typical. I'm still coming to terms."

Grace was a little confused to say the least, but she caught his drift and was willing to flow with it. To illustrate her next words, she flipped her palm up as if to literally open to him, and lightly squeezed his hand. "If I'm being honest, I don't really get it, but I'm cool with that. When you are ready to tell those stories, I'm ready to listen. But for now...why don't we go with basics?"

"Basics?"

"Yeah. Like...what about your family?"

* * *

He had prepared somewhat for a barrage of questions of this sort. He had created a 'persona' as close to himself as he could, with all of the other-realm concepts removed, or left open for discussion later. If she became too suspicious of him now, he'd lose her. He was sure of it. He looked at his fingers, where they connected with hers on top of the table.

Surreal. Comforting. Something he had not experienced for so long.

He recalled her question and chuckled inwardly. "My family come from a long line of those who...well, who walk along the lines of what the Norse people believed thousands of mi- of years ago, if you hadn't already guessed that. Now, it's a dying belief but it still runs strong in certain regions. I have an older brother called Thor, after the God of Thunder. Sometimes I feel he takes that too seriously." He tried to keep his expression light despite the darkness swirling in his gut at the thought of his brother.

Grace let out a slight snort. "And if Thor is god of thunder, is there a Loki in Norse religion too?"

His eyes sparkled. "Not coincidentally, Loki is Thor's brother in Norse belief and he is best known as the God of Mischief." For effect, he grinned slyly and leaned in toward her. "Thor may - often - complain that I take my own namesake too seriously." He was not about to mention his other nicknames - 'Loki Liesmith' and 'Silvertongue.' He was not even telling full out lies here. Merely half-truths, he told himself. He had never felt compelled to honesty before, or tried to justify untruths but there was something about Grace and her purity of mind that made him...not want to deceive her.

Grace's eyes were dancing as they met his. "Is that so?" she challenged.

"Oh, yes," he cooed. "I do have a penchant for causing trouble." This caused Grace to giggle again.

"Do you get along with your brother?"

Loki hesitated. "Y-yes...yes, for the most part. We have had our squabbles, fought our battles. But I love him dearly although I feel he is often the favored one and felt quite envious of him as a child." Was he now God of Understatements? "But I suspect most younger siblings feel that way to some extent. Do you have any siblings, my dear?" He knew that Grace was a bright woman, but if he turned the charm up a notch she'd allow herself to respond to it. He smiled warmly, his gaze meeting hers. She returned his smile, albeit shyly now the attention was turned back to her. And he was still so aware of her skin on his.

"Yes, I have two brothers. Both younger than me. One by 4 years, the other by 9 years. Loki...I'm sure your brother is no more favored than you are. Why would you think he is?"

"It's no matter, Grace. He is the opposite of myself. Physically strong, straightforward, always good intentions. He is still young at heart but has matured a great deal in recent years. However, father was always more interested in what Thor was up to, what he achieved, than myself. I'm afraid I was always too bookish for father to really understand. As a youth I always felt a bit of a social pariah even amongst my family, and so I turned to mischief - much like the Loki of myth, I think."

"I get that. But I bet he didn't love you any less just because he couldn't identify. I can totally understand how it might seem that way, though." She was so sure of this, wasn't she? He had started to wonder the same himself, but all that did was bring the yearning, and then the bitterness, back into his heart. He was undoubtedly past the point of no return, now. He had done well as of late in pushing that aside. Focusing on Grace, though she did not know it, had helped distract him immensely.

* * *

They talked for the better part of two hours - until they were kicked out of the shop at closing time. Loki had offered to walk her home and she quite happily accepted. It was not lost on her that since he had first boldly put his hand over hers, they had remained connected in that way for the rest of the evening. She couldn't say it didn't make her feel a little fuzzy inside, though she knew it shouldn't. The last half-hour of their conversation had been gentle teasing, plans for another coffee date, stolen glances. It had stirred something in her that she hadn't expected.

Ever chivalrous, Loki had held his arm out to her as they began to walk and so now they strode slowly, side-by-side, her hand resting safely in the crook of his elbow. They walked in silence but every so often Loki would dip his narrow chin and take a lingering glance at her face. She returned his attention each time with a wide smile up at him. At first, his mouth had twitched in response as if he had been trying not to smile, but now she felt he was provoking her expressions just to reward her with his own, rather pleased grin. It was practically a smirk. It suited him so well.

When they reached her door inside the building he turned to face her. For a brief moment as he turned he held her hand where it sat on his arm, and so she kept it there. She wasn't really _that_  willing to let it go at this point, anyway. He was searching her eyes through those dark lashes of his, a peaceful expression over his features.

"Thank you, Grace. I haven't enjoyed myself as much in a long time. I'm fairly certain that was due, in no small part, to you." His words were hushed, his eyes smiling into hers, his lips moving gracefully and it was all Grace could do  _not_  to stare at them. She realized she was biting her own lip.

She looked up at him to say something in response, but he didn't give her much chance. His free hand was gently grasping her arm and his twinkling eyes met hers again just a moment before he inhaled and pressed his lips against her cheek, so near to her mouth all she'd have to do was just turn a little...

The moment his lingering, chaste kiss ended she noticed his breath was slightly faster, his eyes wide and thoughtful as they focused on her lips. His gaze flicked up to hers as if to get a read on her reaction. She blinked slowly, exhaling, suddenly feeling very heady in anticipation of what might - what she  _wanted to -_  happen.

Suddenly his right hand was cupping her face, his lips descending on hers with an intensity she didn't expect. His other hand rested at her waist, and she could feel his restless fingers itching to pull her closer to him. His mouth moved slowly, reverently, his lips capturing hers several times over. She disentangled her hand from his arm, using one arm to pull him near and the other lightly caressing his jawline before wrapping around the back of his neck. He deepened the kiss in response, coaxing her mouth open. When she didn't resist he used their proximity to shift their bodies so she stood with her back against the wall, his body pressed against hers. Her heels, blessedly, meant they were nearly face-to-face without any leaning. She sighed into his mouth as his hands shoved into her hair and he smiled against her lips, blue eyes shooting open to gaze at her for a moment.

"You are remarkable, Grace Damien," he whispered, his words gently ghosting across her lips. She huffed at him and pulled his mouth back onto hers. He removed one hand from her body in order to prop himself against the wall so he wasn't leaning too hard on her. Their tongues danced against each other, Grace's head practically floating with the taste of him, the smell of him all around her. His movements were precise and practiced and his lips felt  _so good_ , so warm and soft against hers. So perfect. She couldn't get enough.

Several minutes later she broke away from him, breathless, clutching at the material of his shirt around his waist to keep him at bay. His forehead leaned against hers as he playfully tried to capture her lips again.

"You can come in, if you like..." Grace whispered. He grinned wickedly at her before kissing her forehead. "My darling Grace," he breathed, "You've no idea how much I'd like to take you up on that offer, but..."

"...but you won't," Grace said, disappointment too evident in her voice for her taste. She shouldn't  _want_  him to come in. But she did.

He kissed her again, an intensity there that she knew was meant to convey a message. It would have if her brain had been functioning after his delicious assault on her. "I  _mustn't_. If I accept your invitation, Grace, I'm afraid I'll lose the desire to draw that line. We have so much time, darling.  _So_  much time." He was a breath away from her face and she closed her eyes as the breath of his words flooded her senses. Another slow, tender kiss to her lips and he was reaching for her hand. His eyes were wide again, gazing into her own as he kissed her palm with a wry smile. "Until next time, Grace."

"Next time..." she repeated quietly, watching his slender figure retreating down the hall.


End file.
